


Legacy

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Gen Work, Possible Spoilers, Protective Dean Winchester, Schmoop, Set after 13x10 Wayward Sisters, reflective Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: 1-shot. Set after events in 13x10 Wayward Sisters. Recent events have caused both Winchesters to think about the future and what, if any, legacy they might be leaving behind. Returning to the bunker gives each a chance to reflect and while Sam sees their legacy as those that might continue on after them, he’s surprised to learn what Dean feels is his legacy. (Schmoop and brotherly feels included)





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Maybe mild language, possible spoilers but maybe probably not too many as this was written before the episode aired.
> 
> Tags: It’s set after 13x10 Wayward Sisters but I’m not sure it counts as a tag.
> 
> Spoilers: Maybe so just be wary.
> 
> Author Note: This one came out of nowhere this afternoon so after not writing a tag, a semi-tag, a missing scene, etc for well over a year, here is something. I hope you enjoy. It’s not beta’d so I’ll apologize now for any missing words since my brain often still works faster than my fingers.

**Legacy**

  1. DW. Two sets of initials carved into the heavy wooden table that sat in the Men of Letters bunker that Sam Winchester and his older brother Dean called home these days.



It had taken Sam a long time to accept the bunker as that and if the younger man was honest with himself the bunker was more like a summer home than a real one. The 1967 Chevy Impala that set in the garage below would always be home to them.

The bunker, as Sam sat now tracing the initials that he and Dean had carved into the table months earlier, was a part of their roots; their legacy if Sam thought back to something their paternal grandfather, Henry, had told them before dying in a time not his own.

Legacy. It hadn’t been something Sam had really thought about much until recently. He’d been born to John Winchester, a tough as nails ex-Marine mechanic who had lost his wife and the world he knew when the supernatural entered their home one night and things literally went up in flames.

Sam’s memories of his father were of a man hard-pressed to find and destroy what killed his wife. Even as a baby, most of Sam’s memories of John was of the man’s leaving him and his older brother either in the back of the Impala or at Bobby’s place or with Pastor Jim.

Growing up, Sam’s memories of John Winchester were more of bitter fights, constant moving and once he learned the truth of his family’s ‘business’ it was of wondering when the day would come when either John or Dean might not come back from a hunt and he’d be alone.

It wasn’t until more recently, once they’d met Henry, their grandfather, that Sam began to consider things about John and the legacy left behind.

Henry had been the one who told them about the Men of Letters; an order of scholars that the Winchester men had been a part of for generations. The Men of Letters were scholars, more into research, than field work as the out of time man had explained to his confused and wary grandsons when he’d popped out of a hotel closet and very upset to learn his grandsons were hunters instead of Men of Letters which was supposed to have been their Legacy.

Reaching for the untouched glass of whiskey that he’d poured earlier, Sam leaned back to look around the library like room and thought of another so-called ‘legacy’ he’d been told about by another relative.

As a child, Sam’s memories of Mary Winchester were sparse as she’d died when he’d been six months old. His memories were of a pretty blond woman singing to him but most of his memories of Mary had come from his older brother.

Neither Winchester had known about their Mother’s past since John hadn’t known much and what he had learned, what he’d written in his journal about her odd uncle and come other Campbells, had been enough to make Sam wary.

It hadn’t been until Dean’s trip back into the past years ago that the truth had been revealed. Mary Winchester, or Mary Campbell had grown up in a family of hunters. Hunters, according to Samuel Campbell, that had even come over on the Mayflower so the legacy of hunting had been long and storied within the Campbell line.

After learning of Henry and the Men of Letters connection to the Winchesters and their distaste of hunters, Sam had always wondered if that hadn’t been another reason Samuel had despised their father because he doubted if the man didn’t know or hadn’t dug into John’s background to learn more about his father and the Winchester line.

He and Dean had always thought Samuel hated John because he wasn’t anything but a mechanic, an ex-Marine who his only daughter had fallen in love with and planned to run off with in order to escape whatever plans Samuel might have had for her future.

Sam wondered if there hadn’t been more to his hate since the time Sam had spent with Samuel and the cousins while soulless had given him the idea that his maternal grandfather hated Winchesters with as much of a passion as Men of Letters seemed to hate hunters. Of course, Sam also had serious issues with that side of their family and was sort of glad Mary, when she returned, hadn’t pressed to learn more the one time she brought up something she’d read that Dean had written in the journal about Samuel and the cousins.

Bringing the glass up to his lips as if to sip, Sam paused as if considering before placing it down again; he didn’t drink hard liquor as a rule and when he did it was usually with his brother so he waited while continuing to think or brood as Dean was likely to call it once he came up from double-checking the Impala after it had sat for however long they’d been missing in that other place.

Heaven. Hell. Purgatory. All places Sam grew up thinking existed only in the Bible that Pastor Jim would read out of on Sunday. Learning those places existed should have made it easier to accept that alternate worlds, other universes might also exist in more than just comic books or in the science fiction books that Sam had loved reading as a kid.

Wincing as his arm ached from a scrape and torn muscle he’d gained from the ‘Bad Place’ as it had been called by Kai, Sam now was thinking a lot more about how many places like that or the place they’d been to before from the split Jack opened existed and if they were all as bad.

Kai’s ‘Bad Place’ had nearly gotten them served as lunch for what Dean had called rejects from Jurassic Park and had gotten them both beat around. The other place, the place Jack opened and where Sam feared both Jack and Mary Winchester were now trapped, looked like something out of a post-Apocalyptic nightmare and in some way Sam guessed it was since they hadn’t been born to stop Michael and Lucifer from unleashing their war on Earth.

Shaking his head to dismiss his brooding over that or his worry for Mary and Jack right then, Sam took his thoughts back to his original line of thinking as he sat upstairs waiting for Dean so they could decide what their next move would be.

It still bothered Sam how close they’d come to buying it back in that other world. He’d known it was impossible for them to get out alone and no one would know to even look for them or so he’d thought. It had been something Dean had said to him there, the one time that Sam had come close to a rare panic attack, that had calmed him down because if his big brother believed it then so would Sam.

“She’ll know something’s wrong. She’ll find some way to make it right, little brother.”

She, as it turned out, had been Sheriff Jody Mills; the woman who’d become a huge part of their lives before Bobby Singer’s death and had inserted herself into their world now as part surrogate mother, part mediator when she needed to bang their heads together, and now something more it seemed.

Sam didn’t think it had occurred to either of them before that whole mess with the British Men of Letters happened, that they did have an impact on the lives of others that they’d either met or saved.

The younger Winchester understood that Dean felt a heavier burden on involving others because he knew that nearly everyone they met, knew or in some cases had loved had been killed by knowing them or trying to help them.

It didn’t surprise Sam by what he saw happening back in Sioux Falls once things had calmed down. He understood and shared Dean’s concerns about girls so young, girls like Claire or Alex or Patience, becoming involved in their world but like Jody had said to them as they were leaving…

“ _They’ve all been touched by this craziness in one way or another. Claire lost both parents to it and still has an angel wearing her father’s skin. Look at the hell Alex grew up in with that nest of vampires. Patience is still learning to accept her visions…visions that have saved your bacon, Dean Winchester. They’ve all been touched and survived as best as they can. There’s no going back to normal USA, boys. Hell, I figured that out when my town was attacked by zombies and I had to put a bullet in my little boy as he ate his father_.”

Sam knew the woman was correct. He knew that he and Dean had been responsible for helping not only Jody but also Donna to learn how to be who they were slowly becoming but it wasn’t until they were halfway back to the bunker and Dean spoke in the darkened car that it hit Sam how much influence they were having and what that could mean down the road.

“You remember a couple months back when we were talking about the legacy we’d end up leaving whenever we go out in that blaze of glory?” Dean had asked while looking over in the darkened car with only the lights of passing cars illuminating the rare emotion in his tired green eyes. “Those girls back there… Garth, wherever the hell he and Bess are, whoever else is still out there or that we might meet down the road… that’s our Legacy, Sammy.

“Samuel and Henry both made huge deals out of hunting or the Men of Letters being our legacy because of Mom and Dad’s bloodline but…in the end, what it will come down to… our legacy besides what we do from this day forward and every day we fight, our legacy is those we leave behind to continue the fight like we would. That’s our Legacy.”

Tracing the initials on the table again, Sam’s lips curved up into a slow, tired smile as he replayed those words, repeating them softly as he also thought what fights they’d face in the coming days or months. Frowning as another thought came to him, he started to raise the glass again only to feel strong fingers close over his wrist; holding it down to the table as Dean entered the room without him being aware of it.

“Henry said we should have been legacies because we’re Winchesters. Samuel said basically the same if his brother had taken us from Dad to be raised as Campbells,” Dean began slowly, his voice deeper than usual as he kept his one hand over Sam’s wrist while pulling a chair closer with the other so he could look at his younger brother’s face.

Dean had finished checking over the Impala and had come upstairs to find Sam absorbed in his own thoughts and probably memories so he’d stood in the door to just watch Sam sit with an untouched glass of whiskey in one hand while the fingers of his free hand traced over the initials they’d carved in the table months earlier.

While in the basement garage, Dean had taken that time to also go through what had happened to them recently, what had happened in that world, and what, as a result, might happen now.

Emotions were the one thing that Dean still had a hard time facing. He admitted he’d made a lot of mistakes recently and that he’d been rough as hell on Sam especially but it was hard to face the emotions that he’d been burying or why he’d been burying them.

Facing death was one thing. Dean had been prepared to face death since he’d been 16 years old and had come between some monster and his little brother. Hell, he had faced death after making that deal that sent him to hell but it was harder when he had to face the death of someone he loved and it’s why he’d learned to bury his emotions before and why he’d been trying to bury them again.

Thinking that their Mother might have died… again had hurt and left Dean struggling with the knowledge that once again he’d opened himself up to feelings that his Dad had always said would get him killed. The fear of losing Sam after Mary had terrified him so when his brother insisted they had to help Jack it had scared the hunter because he knew how easily Sam’s emotions could get him killed.

In that world, Dean didn’t have doubts Jody would look for them and that’s what he told Sam. He’d known she would because of anyone still in their small world it would have been her that would move heaven and hell to find them. Granted, it hadn’t been easy on his ego that they’d been saved by Claire but Dean would work on that one so long as it never happened again in his lifetime.

Jody’s small lecture had gotten him to thinking while he polished the car that Dean knew Sam still thought of as home and it got him to thinking about something else; something that as he watched Sam now showed him a truth that as a hunter and a brother he might not have ever allowed himself to see except for back at Jody’s before Sam left to go confront the Brits.

“I guess in some way, if I’m being generous, I could say you and I were Dad’s legacies since we carried on what he started but I’d also say Bobby and Pastor Jim both had a hand in that too,” he went on while keeping his hand over Sam’s wrist before slowly easing it away but kept his gaze locked on Sam’s to see he had his brother’s attention.

“Thinking about legacies and stuff makes me think too hard on the mistakes I’ve made or might make in the future. It’s something I’ve avoided thinking about since I came back from Purgatory because I wasn’t sure with all the screw-ups I’ve made if I could honestly say I’ve left anything or anyone behind as something like that,” Dean heard the sound of teeth gritting when he’d taken a second to look over at the other poured but untouched glass of whiskey, smirking a little at the sound and the feel of Sam’s hand suddenly reaching out to grab for his wrist when he went to move it.

“That’s bullshit and you should damn well know it!” Sam shot back after he’d gotten over the shock of hearing Dean say what he just had. “I should call Jody and have her give you that lecture again or have her come here to slap you in the head! Dude! You just said in the car that they, the girls and stuff were our…”

“They’re _our_ legacy,” Dean interrupted smoothly, leaning forward in the seat to reach out to catch his still fuming sibling by the back of the neck; a move that he’d almost always used with and for Sam and smiled a little more easily once Sam fell silent in his rant to watch him almost warily. “Jody, the girls, Garth and anyone else, they’re _our_ legacy, Sam. I’m not discounting that or arguing that with you.”

Sam blinked, confused and thinking those pain pills he’d taken earlier might be having an effect on him as he turned his head slightly to stare at his brother to see that Dean was watching him, staring at him in the way that usually meant the no chick flick rule might be coming down for a minute or two. “But you said…” he stopped at the feel of Dean’s fingers closing on the back of his neck and squeezing in the same way that Sam knew growing up was his brother’s unspoken way of either offering support or expressing emotions he didn’t feel comfortable speaking.

“You’re the big brain in this duo, little brother. You should know the difference between singular and plural pronouns,” Dean offered a teasing smirk before leaning a little closer while trying to decide how far he’d let this go since he knew if he said what he wanted to that he’d be calling do over on that one damn rule in the morning but as Sam’s eyes slowly met his again the older brother guessed he’d risk it.

“You, my big brained, pain in the ass little brother who has put up with all of my crap for nearly all of your life and still sticks it out with me even after I can be a mean as shit bastard to you sometimes… you are _my_ legacy, baby brother,” he said with the one smile that only Sam saw, the one true, honest smile that was Dean being himself and not a hard assed hunter.

“I guess you were my legacy from the night I carried you out of that house because I swore to always protect you. I suck at it, but I still try. I will always try to protect you because until the day comes where we go off in that blaze of glory or Jody and Donna light my corpse on fire because I will never ask or expect you to… you will be my Sammy and my legacy… and I’m dropping that rule so hit me with your best… there’s my boy.” Dean’s voice had dropped to the thick, rough with raw emotion one that he also only got with his brother but knew what to expect the moment he saw the first tear fall onto Sam’s cheek and felt his brother move in the chair the second Sam learned that he could reach out to hug and be excepted as well as hugged back.

Hugs had always been few and far between with them. Dean knew he had to learn to ease off and show Sam more true emotions as well as more support than he had been. He figured he’d work on that but right then he knew he’d opened a huge emotional can of worms by what he’d said since Dean suspected those would be the last words his little brother would be expecting after all the tension between them recently.

Feeling Sam latch on in a way that he hadn’t in a long time, Dean figured he might have to relax his no-chick flick rule for the weekend but given that his brother had almost been dino food in a freaky ass alternate world it was something he’d put up with.

Normally Dean broke the hug first and would make some light or snarky comment but that night he decided to tighten his grasp when he felt Sam start to ease away, giving a shaky squeeze to the back of Sam’s neck while nodding as he heard the whispered, choked words that Sam murmured. “Yeah, little brother. I know. I love you too and… we will be calling do over on Monday since I doubt if you’ll be moving much after being a dino snack.”

“Jerk,” Sam muttered as he slowly eased back but was surprised to still feel Dean’s hand on his neck. “You were too and you moved in front of me that one time so…”

“That’s what awesome big brothers do… bitch,” Dean smirked this time as he stood up but was careful to keep a hand on Sam when he seemed to tilt a bit too much upon standing. “You’re going to bed to sleep off the pills and headache and maybe I’ll make pancakes in the morning.”

Sam debated on arguing that he didn’t need to sleep but figured he’d lose that fight when he realized in the time it took him to work up the argument that Dean was carefully dropping him on his bed, pulling up the blanket after pulling off Sam’s boots and muttering about clingy Sasquatch little brothers. “De’n?” he called, not realizing he’d dropped a letter in his brother’s name as Dean turned from the door to glance back. “Together?”

Dean had to take a second to translate sleepy Sammy speak before realizing what his brother meant and feeling his throat tighten a second before finally nodding. “Yeah, Sammy. No matter what else happens, what else, who else we face, in the end…it’ll be you and me or not at all,” he promised while closing the door and making it halfway up the hall before he had to stop.

The hunter inside Dean knew whatever they would face next, be it trying to save their Mom and Jack or dealing with the white suited Colonel Sanders of Hell that despite his promise to Sam that if they faced death it would be together, he also knew he’d still fight the ugliest monsters of the pits to keep his brother safe.

**The End**


End file.
